


Mergers and Acquisitions

by enchanted_doughnut



Category: Helix Waltz (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Hate Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 02:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchanted_doughnut/pseuds/enchanted_doughnut
Summary: They were bonded together in a maelstrom of hatred and desire, and it was slowly destroying the man Barris pretends to be.





	Mergers and Acquisitions

**Author's Note:**

> (Before we begin, can I just say how stupidly giddy Bagpiper Barris has made me, it’s my favourite thing ever, I love him so much <3)
> 
> So, I've been sitting on this fic for a good couple of weeks now, I've just been too nervous to post it, lol I've never written explicit smut before and felt really out of my comfort zone. I'm now just at the point where I'm second-guessing everything, so I've decided to post it and put myself out of my misery, lol 
> 
> Saying all that, if you have any feedback/constructive criticism I’d love to hear it!

*     *     *

He despises her. 

Every inch of her jewel-encrusted body sends boiling rage through his veins. Barris sees her, parading around, flaunting her wealth obscenely, and a fury rises up inside of him so powerful he barely recognises himself. Before she had invaded him, he had prided himself on his patience and empathy. Now, as he fought for his control with tight fists and grinding teeth, he wonders if this is his true self or a black reflection of her.

_Speaker of the City Assembly and Chairman of the Chamber of Commerce,_ what a twisted joke. Linglan was nothing more than a vain, arrogant merchant. A greedy dragon, hoarding her treasure of gold and jewels. Where it came from mattered little to her, only that belonged to her, now.  

In their society, there is law, order and reason, and she has no respect for any. Rather than working within the system to make Finsel a better place, Linglan twists it for her own gain. She hides her selfishness behind sheer smiles, promising riches to those who know no better. Nothing she did, didn't benefit her first and foremost, and if you profited from the dragon's greed, then you were lucky.

_Nouveau riche,_ nobles whisper behind her back. But to her face, they call her _Lady Chairman_  and praise her talent. In truth, she makes them nervous. The line between nobles and commoners in Finsel was blurring with each passing day and it scares them. Old money is losing its power, and sitting on her pile of gold, she is proof of it. With the brutality of the beast she is, she forced her way into noble court, elevating her family’s business beyond anything her father could have dreamed.

She patronises those born into their privilege and sneers at commoners who couldn’t follow in her filthy footsteps.

Barris knows the moment she enters a room. Out of the corner of his eye, she glows like a fiery furnace; mellow and contained, but just as dangerous as a wildfire if you got too close. Her voice shatters his thoughts and her scent fills his breath. He wants to ignore her, but she is a blazing fire and he is kindling.

Selfishness and arrogance spill from her mouth and it infuriates him. He snaps back, his heart thudding in his ears and his fingers twitching. They argue, heated, passionate and ultimately nonsensical. It doesn't matter what they fight over, anymore. If she says left, he will insist right. If he says up, she will argue down is better.

If anyone overheard them, they would be horrified. She, a woman _- a nouveau riche -_ speaking to a nobleman like that. And he, a respected member of one of the founding families speaking just as poorly. The Sakan’s were romantics and poets; whimsical and carefree. His family has their flaws - his greying hairs attests to it - but this should never be one.

There was a twisted perversion deep inside of him, and she was the one to draw it out. Lust muddles with anger and the fire in his veins burn hotter, destroying the man he pretends to be.

When he realised the connection his body had made between the two, Barris was appalled. He had fled the room like a coward, scared someone _\- she -_ would notice. He punched the wall until his knuckles bled, his cock straining against his trousers, and vowed never to react like that again.  

The next time he saw her, all he could focus on was how close Linglan’s body was to his when she whispered insults in his ear. The fullness of her breasts pressed against him, the slender arch of her neck when she looked up at him to watch his reactions, and then the quirk of her lips when she saw what she wanted.

Their arguments become more vicious and their insults more venomous. The sight of her, angry and passionate, glaring at him with furrowed brows and flushed cheeks makes his mouth dry and cock twitch. The fire inside of him was burning him alive, pooling in his groin and muddling his thoughts, and he fights futilely against it.

And then, when it becomes too much, she laughs.  

She throws her head back and laughs. A loud, brutish sound that comes deep from her stomach, her mouth wide and teeth bared. A far cry from a noblewoman’s, who are taught to giggle demurely behind an open fan, with coy eyes peering over.

She laughs as he throws her onto the desk, tearing at her skirt and pulling the fabric over her hips. He forces her thighs apart and she lets him, embracing her shameless display. The sound of her laughter still rings in his ears, beating against his pulse as he snaps the straps of her hosiery with trembling hands. He knew nothing thrills her more than this victory she was claiming over him.   

Hooking his fingers under the lace underwear, he barely pauses to trace her swollen folds, ignoring the way her body arches into his touch, before pulling the fabric aside. The lace stretches and tears, the taut fabric leaving red marks as it cuts into her skin, but he doesn't care and neither does she. His fingers dig into her hips for purchase and he drives into her wet cunt.

Hot, tight warmth squeezes him and Barris has to pause, panting into her neck as dizzying pleasure overwhelms him. Linglan cries out, clutching onto his arms painfully as her nails claw him through fabric. Pressed against her, he could smell her perfume, a bold fragrance from Rayorca thrumming from her skin.

He remembers the last time she wore it. She hosted a Social Ball for the City Assembly and the Senate. The night started politely, but soon they began bickering, their voices low and hissing. He wanted to take her somewhere private and remove her ability to speak at all, but she knew his intentions and taunted him. All night she stayed out of his grasp, mingling and dancing with both men and women, aware of his eyes upon her. Then, as the evening came to an end, she cast him a glance over her shoulder and he followed.

“Whenever you’re ready, Barris.”

Linglan’s voice hits him like icy water. It dampens his pleasure-fueled fever, clearing his mind and infuriating him anew. Her audacity to speak to him in this moment enrages him. He grips her hard enough to leave bruises and shoves back into her mercilessly.

She never could be quiet. Linglan shamelessly cries out as he fucks her, letting everyone beyond the closed door know the pleasures he brought upon her. She revels in their debauchery like a well-paid whore, not caring for the etiquette he should be following, nor of the consequences of their scandal.

“Shut up,” Barris hisses, hooking one of her knees over his arm, forcing her legs wider.

The change drives him in deeper she responds instantly. Her mouth hangs open wider and a reedy wail spills from her lips. Her chest arches up towards him, the rubies around her neck glittering as she begs for him to touch her breasts. He keeps his hands on her thighs, leaving a mottling of bruises across her skin.

“I said _shut up,"_ his words punctuated with hard thrusts. Underneath the fog of lust and anger, he knows he is being too rough, but he was hoodwinked by her and couldn't stop himself. Every movement he makes, every time he withdraws and pushes back into her, slick heat grips him with aching agony, sending him further into madness.

Linglan’s lips shine with saliva as she works her mouth over silent words. Barris imagines them wrapped around his cock and considers doing just that. The vivid image flashes through his mind of her on her knees before him, her mouth stretched wide. In his fantasy, he would reach down and tangle his fingers in her hair, forcing her to take him deeper, tasting more of herself on him.

Would she fight him, dragging her teeth across the sensitive flesh, warning him not to overstep? Or would she relish in her power over him, watching his reactions through eyes glimmering like the jewels she wore, claiming him in yet another way?

“... fu... fuck you,” Linglan gasped out, barely able to form the words.

If he had any control he would stop right now. He would pull out of her and leave her wanting. He'd make her beg for him, with her cunt empty and throbbing, her need smeared on her thighs. She would learn what it’s like to feel this even for a few minutes. A mere drop in an ocean compared to what he experiences at her hands.

But she took his control long ago, so instead, he sinks back into her.

One of her hands unclenches from the painful grip on his arm and drops between them, coaxing her own pleasure to its peak. No noblewoman would insult their husband by pleasuring themselves during their lovemaking. But she was neither a noblewoman nor his wife, and what they did could never be given such a delicate name as _lovemaking._

It was a maelstrom of carnal desire and hatred. It was rough and animalistic. There was no intimacy shared between them as she used him for her own desires and he gave into his. If her actions upset him, he doubts she would even care, this being more important than his ego.

The sight of her climaxing destroys him and rebuilds him anew. As she crashes over the edge, her brows draw together and her mouth sags open. Her back arches, her cheeks flushed pink and her lips glistening. Every single time he commits it to his memory, scared he would forget. Her cunt grips his cock, squeezing tighter and tighter as waves of pleasure wrack her body, pulling him in deeper, forcing his own climax to peak.

With final thrusts, he spills deep into her.

Basking in this rare moment of clarity, Barris wraps his arms around her waist, silently begging her just to be silent for one minute. Miraculously, Linglan doesn’t make a sound beyond ragged breathing, her forehead resting on his shoulder. The wooden clock in the corner of the room ticks quietly, the rhythmic sound slower than his heartbeat. Beyond the closed door, he can hear the footsteps and muffled voices of his colleagues with their clients. It’s only when Barris withdraws from her, does Linglan make a groan of protest.

“Are you going to give me something to clean up with?” Linglan asks as Barris rightens his clothes. Mocking and cocky. The same voice she used when speaking to him in a ballroom surrounded by people. No one who heard it would think she was sitting on his desk with his seed dripping out of her.

Barris considers putting her torn underwear back into place and sending her out his office, but knowing her, she would probably make a mess of the leather inlay on his desk just to spite him. He hands her his handkerchief and Linglan snorts with laughter seeing the embroidered _B.S._ in the corner. He watches her fold it, making sure the letters were facing up, before cleaning herself.

Barris grits his teeth together, biting back a comment as she drops the soiled kerchief on his desk and hops off it. Pulling her skirt down, she smooths the fabric with her hands. Luckily the ruched design hides most of the creases.

Linglan smirks at him, smug and pleased. Her cheeks still flushed pink, her eyes sparkling. How many times has she looked like this, now? At balls, did the nobles know that as she discussed trade costs and taxes with them, his seed was soaked in her underwear and dripping down her thighs? Or did they simply assume she had drunk too much wine?

When Barris’s face was just as flushed as hers, could they tell that minutes before he had pressed her into an alcove and fucked her against the wall, her teeth biting painfully into his shoulder to stay quiet? Could they smell her want drying on his cock, having to quickly stop before a servant walked past? Or did they merely think they had another heated argument, again?

“I'm free for an hour after noon, tomorrow,” Linglan said, looking at her reflection in the glass cabinet door. Her makeup had smudged around her eyes like a whore’s after a busy day. “I had meeting cancelled,”

“I'm not,” Barris said harshly. “I'm too busy preparing a case for court right now.”

Glancing at his desk, Barris was surprised the piles of papers and bookmarked-tombs didn’t get knocked off. The last time she visited him while working, he ended up wasting an hour re-organising the stack of documents that got pushed off, ultimately leaving him more frustrated than before.

Linglan turns to him, her expression haughty and unimpressed. “Then _make_  yourself free,” she said. “I'll be here, tomorrow.”

He knew she would simply barge her way in if he told his secretary he wasn't available tomorrow. He could leave the office during that time; arrange a meeting with a client in their home, or have a late lunch away from his desk.

After Linglan left, her head held high and her hips swaying, doing nothing to conceal her sated pleasure, Barris informs his secretary to clear his schedule tomorrow for an hour after noon.

 


End file.
